Orleander Facade
by TeddyBear'sAlliance
Summary: Johnny, still grieving months after Rab's death, is greeted by close friends: Dusty, Doctor Warren, Cilla and the reformed Dove. While the group idly chatted, Doctor Warren clears his through and leaves a bombshell on the group's hearts - "Rab's. Not. Dead."


"Hey-oh, Johnny!" Dove called out to me, several months after that afternoon. The afternoon that Rab had died, the afternoon I became numb. I had been spending more time in Lexington than in Boston, with a kind family who let me stay there while I collected my thoughts. Today was my first day home, and I didn't want to deal with Dove, not now anyways.

"I hear Rab died!" he cried out, breathless.

I didn't want to deal with this, so I trudged on and ignored him. He ran up, and placed a hand on my shoulder, it was almost comforting.

"Is it true?" he panted. I didn't answer him. I looked him up and down and realized he had lost an enormous amount of weight, and looked more like an adult and less like a pig. His hair was still light and his skin still fair and freckled, but his jawbone was more chiseled; the baby-fat of being a teenager has finally melted away to a more adult-like structure.

"Johnny!" he groaned. After about ten minutes, I was fed up with his questions and badgering.

"It's true," I shouted, "Rab is dead. Are you happy now?" I screamed at him. I felt something inside of me change, my chest felt lighter when I admitted the truth. But I could also feel. . .

"You're crying, Johnny," Dove said softly, "let's get out of the street and away from judgmental eyes."

Everyone was staring at us as we made our escape.

In the shop, I felt somewhat better until I found Rab's old apron. That same apron that he always used while making newspapers. I started to sob once more, the heaviness in my chest becoming lighter and lighter with each choking sob. Dove patted my back, speaking soothing words. "It's okay. . . It's okay. . ."

I woke up in my bed with a bread-and-cheese-meal on my side-table. A little note sat under the cup of milk, and it read:  
"_Dear Johnny,  
I hope you are feeling better now that you admitted to yourself the truth of Rab's death. You are not alone, because I, Dusty, and Cilla are there for you. Please don't hold the burden all to yourself. I'll pick you up at 5, we need to talk."_

_ ~Dove"_

It was 4:39 now, so he'd be coming to get me soon. It's very strange; I never would have believed that louse to have a heart. And where had Dusty ran off to?

Dove and Dusty were waiting by the door at five o'clock sharp.

"Oi Johnny!" Dusty called as I came down the stairs. "Where've ya been!"

"Hey Dusty, how are you?" I asked, "Where have _you_ been? I heard you ran off to sea!"

"Aye, it's been a year since I started working as a sailor. It's a mighty hard job, but it keeps me 'fed so I'm alright with it. We recently docked our _Fantasy_ ship; she's resting in the harbor now." Dusty explained. "I'll be here for around six months doing odds and ends jobs around town. Ya know?"

Dusty grew at least five inches in height since the last time I saw him two years ago. His hair was still as messy as it always was and his eyes still shined like the stars; a dark pewter gray over a metallic finish. His skin was more tanned, and his body a (strangely) bit more toned than a normal boy his age. It must be because he's a sailor now, afterall.

The Webb twins entered from the back of the shop, black as Hell imps.

"You spilled the bloody ink all over me!" one of them shouted to the other.

"No I didn't: it was your fault! You started it!" the other cried. I groan; the Webb twins were fighting more and more often since Rab died. Their clothes were almost all black due to the ink spilling's, never mind their faces and hands!

"Johnny!" they shouted at me in unison while staring at me. I didn't know which was which; they both had the same eyes, hair, faces. Everything about them was identical, from the freckles on their nose to the shoes on their feet. Ten years old, each having messy strawberry blonde hair and turquoise eyes. I didn't know their names, so I stuttered. "Uh. . .it was your fault?" I pointed to the one on the right. He gasped and glowered at me. "It wasn't my fault!" he protested.

"What are your names?" Dusty asked them. They looked at each other, then at Dusty. One stepped forward.

"My name is Alfred Webb." He moved his messy hair out of his eyes and stood proudly in front of us.

"And my name is Matthew Webb." The other stepped forward beside his brother, grinning goofily.

"Ah." Dusty smiled, and kindly said hello to the twins. I had never known their names, so this came to an awkward relief for me in case I need to know their names.

"We'd best get to work," Alfred muttered, "Or Uncle Lorne will get angry."

"But tomorrow's Sunday! And it's near closing time!" Matthew exclaimed with a whine. Dove remained silent, but smiled at the boys. I wasn't sure why, but standing in this room felt glorious, even though another member wasn't present.

The door opened, and Cilla emerged. She wore a light lavender dress, with a white flower in her hair. She smiled, "Hi there, Johnny."

I felt my face grow red, and Dove laughed.

"I knew you two were going to get friendly." Dove murmured, teasingly. Dusty remained quiet, and didn't look at either of us.

"Yeah, real friendly. . ." Dusty quietly grumbled, jealously. Cilla could sense this, so she leaned over, and kissed Dusty lightly on the cheek. His face grew red.

"Looks like Johnny has some competition!" Dove exclaimed. "Do I get a kiss too, Miss Cilla?" he jokingly leaned close, cheek exposed. She laughed, and teasingly slapped him.

Doctor Warren entered the doorway unnoticed, and quietly leaned in the doorway. It took a moment for the group to notice, but we only noticed him when he spoke the words: "Rab isn't dead."

We froze, and turned our faces toward Doctor Warren. Our mixed expressions were shown, a mixture of shock and confusion had lit all of our faces.

"What?" I gasped. "How could he be alive? You _told_ me that he died on that afternoon!"

Doctor Warren's eyes fell to the ground. There was something he wasn't telling us, and I _needed_ to know.

"Rab. . .Had made me promise to keep mum. To stay quiet and to tell you all he was dead while he slowly healed: he didn't want you to worry about him, because we weren't sure if he was going to live or not. He's doing great so far; he's able to stand and limp around. He's going to marry soon."

I couldn't believe it. This man, the man that I had long trusted with my information for the war, when it had truly started and I _helped_ this man gather information for the Patriots. And Rab, the guy that I've shed tears over, thinking he was dead, was actually alive. I couldn't stand it. I need fresh air. I storm out of the shop, with a faint cry of Doctor Warren's "Wait Johnny!" ringing in my ears.

Storming down the Warf, I go to the Queen's stable to get Goblin. I needed to get out of here, even for a while.

When I entered the barn, I noticed Goblin rubbing his head against a pretty little mare. He likes her, and she likes him. I reach out and gently touch the mare's shoulder, and she reaches up and nips my hair. It wasn't in a mean way, but more in a caringly curious way.

"Hey!" a voice called from behind the stable. "I see you like my mare; she's a beauty isn't she?"

The dark figure stepped out, his eyes and hair a dark mahogany brown. His arm was in a sling, but a dazzling smile illuminated his tan face. He had a slight Polish accent, but he seemed kind. He reminded me of Rab; they looked so much alike it was unreal. I nodded, and Goblin was still nuzzling her.

"Looks like your stallion likes Lucia a lot, they appear to be similar breeds; if you ever want another baby horse around, call me. I've been wanting to breed her for a while." He smiled again, "What's your name?"

"Johnny Tremain."

"Ah, my name's Oleander Colline, I recently moved here from France." He explained with a slightly sad sigh. He noticed me inspecting his arm. "I had my arm broken on the way over here – we hit really rough waters and I was flung against the railing in the worst of ways and well. . . My arm snapped."

He let out a rueful laugh, but his eyes solemn.

"Maybe it's time for me to go," he said cooly, "I need to get back home. I only really come to town for my Lucia and supplies. See ya, Johnny." He waved goodbye and smiled back at me, then he said the words that made my blood go cold.

"Rab's been waiting a while to see you, Johnny Tremain."

Then he walked out with a boisterous laugh. I wasn't sure why he laughed the way he did, but how he did had made me get goosebumps.

I leave the stable, and head home when I overhear a conversation between two teenagers on a corridor.

"Does he know?" one of them asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"I don't think he's caught on yet." The other whispered, glancing in my direction.

"Boys, leave 'em be," Oleander smoothly murmured with a grin, "we can't let others know about _it_ yet."

"Hey!" I call out to them when a stagecoach rides along the road. Just when I'm about to cross, I'm shocked. I stand there with my veins turning icy.

The teenage boys, and Oleander, are gone. And the corridor – that had _just been there – _had disappeared. Nothing but a blank wall of a shop was across the street from me. Something is going on, and I'm determined to find out. I storm back into the stable to find Lucia not in her stable – but the stable actually _wasn't there at all. _Goblin looked at me with his pale blue eyes, as if wondering the same thing I was: _what's going on?_

I arrive back home when it's starting to get dark. Doctor Warren and everyone else are talking about something serious; their heads close together as if in some kind of secret meeting. When I open the door, their whisperings stop and they turn towards me, eyes full of pity and knowing.

"What?" I ask, darting my eyes at all of their faces, trying to understand. "What is it? _What is going on here?!"_

Doctor Warren looks at the others in a sad but assuring way, and step towards me. "I'll tell you everything, just sit down." –

The next thing I know is that I'm mounted on Goblin and we're galloping swiftly to _him. _To Oleander's house, I don't know where it is per-say; but inside my heart, in my gut instinct, I can _feel _it. The directions to get to him.

I find an abandoned house; its lights were dimly lit. The roof seemed to be sloping in an odd way onto its frames, the gutters hanging limply onto the building as if holding for dear life. When I unmounts and slam the door open, there he is. A grin slowly forming on his lips, he turns his head towards me and I see. –

"_What?" I fumble over my words, the shock never leaving my face. Doctor Warren's expression was soft as he gently explained that Rab wasn't dead; that he never died. That he continued fighting shortly after he was able to move again, eagerly fighting for his unending cause. He was captured by the British and tortured; and wanting to escape from his pain, he had developed another personality once he was shipped from England to France then back here. That is who Oleander is; that's why he knew of Rab, because they are the same person. That's why he seemed so familiar. _

"_Does he have a mare named Lucia?" I ask suddenly remembering the disappearance of the horse stall. "'Cause I remember Goblin was being friendly with a mare on his left and then once Rab left. . .she disappeared. Actually, her entire stall disappeared."_

_Doctor Warren smiled softly at me. "The mare Lu-chee-ah" he corrected my pronunciation of Lu-cee-ah, "is definitely alive. Her stall is to his right, not his left." He explained. "You misunderstood the situation because your eyes tricked you into seeing what your fantasy world wanted you to see."_

_I nod, understanding. "What should we do with Rab? Can I even call him Rab anymore?" _

_He hesitated. "It depends on who he sees himself as, Johnny. If he sees himself as Rab, he's Rab. If he sees himself as Oleander, he's Oleander. I'm sure – I'm hoping – that he'll finally remember who he truly is very soon." _

The memories of the past day flood through my mind. What had led me to saddle Goblin in the middle of the night during a full moon, was that conversation with Doctor Warren. The figure that turns to me smiles more friendly at me, and motions towards the table set and chairs. He wanted to sit and talk.

"Hey Johnny, I guess you know my secret, huh?" Oleander slyly grinned. "That I'm Rab, but," he tapped his head, "he's in here, not out here, where I am."

"I know," I nodded, "I want Rab back; you've done your purpose haven't you? You saved him from the torture."

Oleander's face turned dark. "No, I haven't fulfilled my purpose. You see, Johnny, Rab isn't the 'nice-guy' that you think he is. He's much darker than that, it's sinful of how cruel he can be."

"You never knew who he was on the inside, Johnny; he always kept you at arm's length while he quietly embraced me. Embraced his darker nature. He had a flair for fighting, didn't he? He loved being the hero – like when he saved the Webb twin's cat from the Butcher family. He wanted. . .to protect you."

His expression changed from dark to almost sad.

"He wanted to make sure you were safe. That's why he didn't ask you to go to war, that's why he didn't tell you a heartfelt goodbye or let you say goodbye; because he didn't want it to be goodbye. You were his best friend, the only one that he didn't secretly despise. He didn't want you. . .to hate him for who he was. That's why he kept me" he motioned towards his head again, "locked up tight. So I wouldn't hurt anyone, so _he_ wouldn't hurt anyone."

I sit there quietly as his impossible stranger sits across from me. This wolf in sheep's clothing, smiling sadly at me.

"I. . ." I start out, "don't know . . . what to say . . ."

Oleander's face became soft. "Do you know . . . what the name 'Oleander Colline' means?" he asked suddenly. I stare up at him, startled.

"It means 'Poisonous flower, hill'. Rab sure picked a nice name for me, didn't he?" he let out a wistful laugh. "I wish I had been named differently, something less dark and foreboding. Something more gentle sounding."

"When . . . Will Rab come back?" I ask him quietly.

He looks at me, hurt evident on his face, than looks down. "Aren't I good enough? If I let him come back, then I will disappear. And I don't want to die . . ."

I wasn't sure how to respond to that. "You'll . . . die?"

He nodded somberly, grimacing at the thought. "Rab's okay where he is for now, I just want to spend a little time out with you. To tell you things he couldn't stand to say himself. Things he wasn't brave enough to admit. Give me a few more days, and I'll give him back." Tears were filling the brims of his eyes until they finally pooled off of his cheeks.

I could see the words on his face. _I don't want to die. I don't want to disappear, I want to live. That's all I want. _

I wasn't sure how to respond, this young man was spilling his most precious secrets and feelings to me. This is what I wanted Rab to do, I wanted to comfort him but . . . Something inside of me stopped me.

_He's an imposter, _my mind reminded me, _he locked your best friend away, and now he greedily is begging for your help. You can kill him, _a thought popped into my mind, _then you would kill yourself. That way, you'd never lose your best friend again. _

I shudder as dark thoughts climb endlessly into my mind. I push them aside, then agree with Oleander.

"I'll let you stay until you feel most comfortable." I say with surprising ease. "I need to wrap my head around this whole thing anyways, I'm exhausted."

Oleander nodded, and pointed upstairs. "We can sleep up there. I've been keeping an extra bed up there for you, 'cause I know Rab wanted that. He knew that you'd come back eventually."

I realized I hadn't really looked around at the décor of the house. I glance around at the white walls with redwood bordering; pictures of an old family long-gone from the war are hung up. A smiling face of a daughter in one old photo (well, it's not exactly a _photo_ because they're only for the richer families, but more like expert sketches) and a laughing child holding a fishing pole with his small trophy in his child-sized hand.

Once we headed up to the loft, I realized it was the exact same room as back home. The same type of chairs, the same type of beds and blankets with the same scratched-up dressers.

"He also wanted this," Oleander reminded me, casually.

He crawled into bed and within a moment he was snoring. I lie there awake for hours, thinking over what I had just learned, then I fell into an uneasy sleep.

I dreamt of Rab being captured by Cornwallis and taken prisoner by both his mind and by the British (and later escaping to France). Of his pain and suffering and fear, all of which he hid under than calm demeanor. I dreamt of him fighting a losing battle as his mind slowly took over, and him quietly slipping into sleep as Oleander awoke.

I woke up somewhere around noon to the smell of breakfast.

I wander downstairs to find Oleander cooking bacon and eggs over a fire. He looks over at me, and says with a soft laugh; "Good thing I'm a good cook, I'm fairly sure Rab would burn the house down if he had to use an open-flame."

I force a smile, and get out the tableware and set the table. We eat our breakfast in silence.

"Rab reminded me to let you sleep until you woke up, and to scold you if you don't eat all your brunch."

"Uh, huh." I murmur, not really paying attention. I set the milk down on the table, and when I look over, tiny ripples bounce on the surface. The ground is shaking; everything in the house is shaking and nearly toppling over. Loud noises are heard outside. The sound of drums, the sound of horrifyingly perfect marching feet stamping the ground. The British are here.

Oleander freezes in complete fear at the sound of commands by a general. I glance outside the window and a wondering soldier (who is injured) walk toward the house. \

I gasp when I realize who it is; it's Lieutenant Stranger, and he's badly wounded. Oleander stands frozen at the door, eyes wide like a deer about to be shot. Finally, he unfreezes and bolts the door.

"What are you doing?!" I hiss.

"They'll find me, Johnny! I can't go back there – I just can't!"

"But don't you think that they'll find it more suspicious that a door is _bolted_ so they cannot get in!?"

He freezes again when he looks out the window. I peer out of it as well.

Lt. Stranger is admiring Goblin, and when he glances towards the house he spots me. A grin was on his face as he advances towards the door. The looks at the house suspiciously and cautiously walks a few meters away, keeping a keen eye on his Lieutenant. general

"Hey, Johnny!" he bangs the door and quietly hisses, "open up! I need to talk to you."

I look at Oleander, then at the door. I nod at him, and open the door. We might as well give it up; he's armed and we're not, and he knows I'm here. I smile at him.

"Hi there, long time no see!"

"How've you been Johnny? You look grand! Do you mind if I come in, perhaps? And, would you by any chance have any bandages? I kinda need to change mine but we're all out. . ." his voice trailed off. He was being oddly friendly, more sociable than the last time I saw him. Before, the only thing we were equal in was in horses, take that factor out and we're enemies. I thought he had died during the first battle.

"Sure." I felt Oleander's iron-like grip on my shoulder, his nails digging into my back. I fight the urge to wince under the pain and allow Stranger in.

He follows us into the kitchen and changes his bandages in the Birth and Death room. Oleander remains silent when Stranger asks me everyday questions like how Goblin was doing and how Boston was like now. I politely answer all of them, trying to reduce our suspicion levels by a few steps.

"Hey, how about we go to the field out back?" Stranger asked me happily, "We can ride our horses out there. I want to show you some tricks I've learned."

We galloped along the fields, our horses happy with the exercise. Goblin and I race alongside Stranger and his horse. He kept hold of his musket even during this exercise. Oleander trots quietly behind us, sulking and constantly looking over his shoulder to the distance, like he was sensing something we weren't. Stranger ignores this and continues on. The general watches us sternly in the distance, like a nervous mother watches over her troublesome child.

Suddenly, something happens and Lucia bolts forward, spooked by a snake. The horse runs right into Stranger's horse, and plows them both over. The gun went off and a shot escaped. The general heard the gunshot and raced over shouting commands.

Men surrounded Lucia and Oleander preparing to fire. The general believed Oleander had purposely rammed into Stranger and tried to assault him. It was a misunderstanding, but once the troops separated Oleander from Stranger and I, they held their guns up and let fire.

A bullet grazed Oleander's cheek but that's all that hit him. Dove stood in front of him, rattled with bullets. He collapses, blood dripping from every part of his body.

"Dove!" I screech racing over to him. I held him gently in my arms. He smiled weakly at me.

"So you finally . . . know. . ." he wheezed, "the . . .truth. . .I'm so . . . glad."

Blood fell from his mouth with every painful gasp, it's getting worse and he will not survive this.

"It's okay, Dove." I whimper, tears dripping from my face. I never would have thought I would mourn for Dove, the person I hated most in the entire world.

He smiles his last smile, and through his fear-filled tears he whispers: "You and Rab were my best friends, Johnny. I knew you both hated me and used me to spy on, but I loved being part of it. I loved knowing that we were friends. I'm sorry that. . . I messed up your life with the crucible incident, but I'm glad too . . . never would have met . . . Rab . . . Or became friends . . ." his life was draining from his eyes and as he uttered his final breathe, his once pale blue eyes shut forever.

Anger burst through me. He had died an unreasonable death, an easily preventable death. I glare at the general who shot Dove, the man who misunderstood, the man who murdered an innocent bystander. Lieutenant Stranger yelled at him, forgetting his rank over an unnecessary death; I guess Dove had been an excellent horse boy these past few months.

The man apologized, and Oleander picked up the dropped musket and shot the officer. He was killed instantly.

"Even though he was a fat, souse of a boy, he didn't deserve to die over me." A darker voice rumbled through Oleander's chest.

It was Rab. He had finally awaken as soon as bloodshed occurred.

"I've been asleep for too long, and let somebody be killed in my place. Now, _fight me!"_ he crowed, charging into the few soldiers that stood nearby. They were easily knocked out, and other men raised their weapons and fired – all of the bullets missed Rab. He managed to kill every soldier other than Stranger, and they stood toe-to-toe, glaring at each other.

"You seem unaffected now that your own kind is dead, ye Lobster Back!" Rab snarkily grinned. He was taunting him, his anger had finally come out. His apathetic, calm façade over now.

Stranger said nothing for a long while, then he had finally said: "The reason why I don't panic is because I know you won't kill me. Your anger was justified, and the consequence for the general's actions was convicted with his life. His blood waters the grass under his lifeless body, just as Dove's blood has."

Rab regained his calm demeanor, and quietly apologized to me. Tears filled his eyes, but he said nothing else. He turned to Dove's body, now turned cold by midmorning chill, and closed his eyes.

Gently, he recited a poem:

"_Silent tears fall no more, _

_Life for you has spent _

_Sequenced charms followed demonic lure_

_God has gathered your life well lent_

_Peace be with you, my dear friend_

_As we turn to ashes, our souls not to hate_

_We'll meet again in the end_

_In Heaven's pearly white gates_

_But as I close your eyes for now, you may forever see_

_My eyes filled with evil anger and rage_

_Your precious soul is free_

_And you needn't worry about sin, death, or age"_

I bit back the urge to cry as I listened to the poems reciting. Afterwards we buried him, and left for home. Months roll by and slowly everything returns to normal. Before we knew it years pass by. Our lives change one by one: Cilla and I eventually get married and have children; Rab meets a lovely woman and they're currently living together; the Webb twins grow up to be expert newspaper makers; Rabbit grows up and can finally walk and talk now; and Dusty manages to get married as well; Stranger left the army and is currently living in England with his wife Michelle and their baby daughter.

Even though our destinies separate and we don't see each other every day, we all return one day a year to honor Dove, our angel in heaven. One day when my first child was born, I could have sworn I saw him through the window. I ran out to see him, and he beamed a happy smile at me and disappeared. He was proud.

"Hey grandpa," a little hand tugged on my shirt, "will you tell me a story?"

My granddaughter, Ellise, wanted to hear another story about the Warf and Dove and how I met Rab.

"Well sweet-heart it all started when I starting working for the Lapham household as an apprentice . . ." I looked up instinctively, and saw Dove one last time. He smiled at me again, then whisper the words: "Your granddaughter is beautiful, I'll watch over her."

I smile at him, then nod and smile at my granddaughter's bright blue eyes. She looked exactly like Cilla, and I continued the story.

Years pass by and I finally get to see Dove again in Heaven. When I first entered Heaven's gates, faces greeted me. Mr. Lapham, Cilla, Dusty, and everyone else. I turned around, and heard the words:

"Hey-oh Johnny!"


End file.
